


Unknowable

by levicas



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: First Kiss, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 16:31:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6086758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levicas/pseuds/levicas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For so long Adam had thought he knew everything there was to know about Ronan Lynch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unknowable

**Author's Note:**

> In which Adam is pining and doesn't realise that Ronan is doing the same. Essentially, everyone would be happier if these two just communicated properly. But, of course, that would be far too simple.
> 
> And Jesus Christ, I love me some pining.
> 
> (This has not been beta'd so please excuse any glaring errors)

Over their years of friendship, Adam had foolishly thought he knew everything there was to know about Ronan Lynch. Intense, sharp. Mildly threatening. Sometimes extremely threatening. He had seen a fragment of the face Ronan showed the world and wrongly assumed there was little more to know. Since those days he had seen so much more. Even if Ronan did still smother every feeling that wasn't happiness in dark anger, Adam was becoming adept at recognising the subtle differences in Ronan's less polite moods.

This was, after all, a boy who listened to the hearts of farm mice and tried to breathe life back into sleeping cows.

Beneath his hard shell of an exterior, Ronan was infinitely gentle. Vulnerable, in a way Adam had never imagined for anybody beyond himself. How was it that Ronan could be so soft and yet so strong? Perhaps, he thought to himself, the two were not mutually exclusive. Yes, of course. It seemed so obvious now.

Strength wasn't defined by who could overpower who. His father wasn't strong because he could hit Adam and keep him quiet. His father wasn't strong at all, and never had been.

Ronan was strong. Not just physically, although often times Adam found himself transfixed by the movement of his muscles. Ronan didn't use his strength to knock things down, but rather to build them up again. That was something Adam could admire. Maybe Ronan could fix him, tie his scarred insides back together and hold them close to his heart. Close to Ronan's heart, Adam thought he could thrive.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

"What the fuck are you staring at, Parrish?" Ronan's eyes were narrow, his lips had thinned into a tense frown. Before, Adam might have assumed he was angry. Now, he could tell that Ronan was curious, and perhaps even a little embarrassed.

He hadn't meant to stare, really, he hadn't. But Ronan was captivating. Unknowable, in a way Adam had once thought he himself could be. Perhaps he could know him, too. Explore the plains and valleys that were Ronan Lynch, know him until there was nothing left to know. Until they were two threads entwined around one another, inseparable. Wound up so completely it would be impossible to disconnect them.

Adam cleared his throat. It was dry. "Every time I think I know everything there is to know about you, you surprise me with something new."

This wasn't in reference to something Ronan had been doing, per se. He'd just been sitting against the wall on the floor of Adam's apartment, which he seemed to do increasingly often, writing rhymes in an old journal. A year ago the thought of Ronan writing poetry would have made him laugh. Now he was just glad that Ronan felt comfortable enough to share the moment with him, even if they were only sitting in silence, side by side.

Ronan's eyes darted uncertainly away from Adam's face, then back towards it, then away again. As good as he was at writing words, saying them out loud seemed to be more of a struggle for him. Speech was more personal, more physical. More concrete, in many ways.

"Have you been drinking, asshole?"

Of course, Ronan knew he didn't drink. 

Adam rolled his eyes dramatically and nudged Ronan's calf with his foot. "I'm being serious."

"You're being an idiot."

Ronan wasn't meeting his eyes, instead he busied himself with the pages of his journal, fiddling with the dog-eared corners of the pages and pretending to read over what he'd written. It was probably perfect already. How powerful Ronan was, those infinite things he could create. He created art in the form of words, life in the form of Chainsaw. What did that make him? A God? Not for the first time Adam felt the urgent need to express his awe and admiration. Often he felt as though he should be on his knees, Ronan above him. A fearsome yet benevolent divinity.

While he was occupied - jaw tense, eyes unmoving - Adam roamed Ronan's face with his eyes, imagining how much he would love to do the same with his fingers, his tongue. Large like a bull, sharp like a knife. Infinite like the universe. Adam's foot still rested against Ronan's calf, his whole body pulsating with that sharp energy.

Adam wondered if Ronan could feel it, too.

He wanted. Like an ache in his chest, he wanted. Wanted to close the gap between them. To touch Ronan. To know him. Know him as no one else could, or would. He wanted to --

"Can I kiss you?"

Ronan turned his head so suddenly, eyes wide and confused, body taut like a rope, that Adam had to suppress a wry smile. Who else did he know that could shock Ronan Lynch so absolutely?

Then, he recoiled. He hadn't meant to say it. He had meant to keep it to himself, but he always found his impulse control somewhat lacking when he got lost in his exploration of Ronan's face.

"Sorry," he said hurriedly. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. "I shouldn't have said that."

Ronan glanced down to where his leg had met Adam's. His eyes were unreadable. Deeply, and infinitely unknowable. 

God, he was an idiot. He felt the moment Ronan looked back at him, heard it like a gunshot. Why on Earth had he thought he could say something like that and get away with it? Ronan had never shown any indication that he was interested in Adam that way. Sure, there had been moments when he'd felt something, or they'd shared a look that promised something deeper. Their legs entwined as Ronan pretended to sleep in the back seat of the Pig. The two of them sat on the curb in front of 300 Fox Way, not saying a word but understanding each other so completely through the silence. All the tiny moments they'd spent together away from Gansey, rare though they were. Moments that felt fleeting yet everlasting, if only because they'd lingered for hours inside Adam's mind.

Ronan stared at him. Adam stared pointedly away from him. He could hear nothing but the beating of his own stupid heart in his ears. He clasped his hands together, distracting himself from the need to scratch the redness off of his cheeks.

"Sorry," he said again. Just for something to say. Just because he hated the silence.

A moment. Everlasting.

And then, quietly. "I didn't say no."

Adam blinked twice. Had he imagined that? He glanced at Ronan from the corner of his eyes. His face was blank and soft. No furrow between his eyebrows, no frown lines. No glower. Open. "W-What?" Adam stammered.

"Kiss me. If you want." It sounded small. Ronan never sounded small. Always loud, and large, and abrasive.

"Are...are you sure?" He felt like he should check. It seemed appropriate.

"'Course I'm fucking sure." 

"Okay," Adam breathed. Uncertain, he shuffled closer, waiting for Ronan to pull away or say something to indicate he'd changed his mind. No such words came. Adam leaned closer still, cautiously placed his palm against Ronan's jaw. Barely touching. The millimetres of space between them hot, and dense, and electric. He saw Ronan's eyes drift closed, felt his breath against his lips. Adam's lips parted, and met Ronan's.

Soft. He was so soft. Kissing Ronan, Adam discovered quickly, was like sailing through clouds. Slow and gentle. Kind and blissful. Ronan's arms snaked around Adam's back, pulling him closer, holding him against the muscular curves of Ronan's body. Adam wanted to kiss him forever, to live inside the space between Ronan's lips, for Ronan to hold him this tightly and never let him go. He could exist in this space, this single second forever, where there was no school, no asshole father. No poverty, or Gansey or Glendower to worry about. 

This, Ronan, was safety. Wholeness in a way he had never felt before. As if Ronan were the last remaining piece of him, the mortar that held damaged bricks together. His foundation, his world. His home. 

"Ronan," Adam breathed. Whimpered. It was more of a whimper. Ronan reclaimed his lips, holding them between his own, pushing against them. A small, indecent sound escaped Adam's lips. He should have been embarrassed. He wasn't. All he could hear and feel and touch was Ronan. Nothing else mattered, or even existed. "Ronan," he said again.

"What?" Ronan's lips glided away, travelling down to press against his chin. Adam shuddered and threw his head back. Ronan's teeth brushed against his throat. He shivered, wrapping his arms around Ronan's head and holding him against his neck. Each peck Ronan placed there left him unable to craft his thoughts into words. 

"I...I think...you...I - I just--"

"Be quiet, Adam." 

"I didn't...I never realised."

Ronan laughed against Adam's throat, then pulled back to meet his eyes. Adam could've drowned in those eyes, wide, pupil's dilated. Impossible to believe that Ronan wanted him, wanted him just as he wanted Ronan. Wanted him enough for his eyes to glaze over, to see Adam through the familiar haze that Adam himself was always staring through.

And Ronan was smiling, just slightly. He pressed his lips against Adam's nose.

"You do now," Ronan whispered. "Don't forget."

Adam smiled back at him. "How could I?"


End file.
